


if I could stick my pen in my heart and spill all over the stage

by LinguisticJubilee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Mind Palace, Pirates, Post - Deathly Hallows, but actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 09:46:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2768636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinguisticJubilee/pseuds/LinguisticJubilee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five bedtime stories Teddy Lupin tells himself on nights when he can't fall asleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if I could stick my pen in my heart and spill all over the stage

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [It's Only Rock N' Roll (But I Like It)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JGaBlygm0UY) by the Rolling Stones

**1\. Age 7**

The lock on the cell door explodes into smithereens, and the Dread Pirate Tonks, captain of the _Wolfsbane,_ kicks the metal door open. Remus Lupin looks up from where he is seated on the clammy and stained floor and gives a throaty laugh. “What took you so long, eh, Tonks?”

“Shut it, Lupin, or I’ll leave you here to rot,” she says, tossing him a pistol and unsheathing her sword. Side by side, they charge into the sunlight, fighting off guards who are no match for the two most feared pirates in the world. They plow their way through the enemies, Captain Tonks’ red hair flowing gracefully in the wind, Lupin’s leather coat billowing behind him. Once they’re beyond the castle’s protective wards, Tonks grabs her husband’s hand and Apparates onto the deck of the _Wolfsbane._

The crew cheer wildly, and Lupin laughs again. “So, Captain,” he says, handsome eyes twinkling, “where to next?”

 Tonks looks out across the ocean, a pensive look on her face. “It’s time to get Teddy back,” she says softly. “He’s old enough now to join us for adventures.”

 Lupin nods. “And when he’s with us, he’ll never have to eat broccoli again.”

 “Oi, lads and ladies!” Tonks yells to the crew. “Buck up, look alive, and set sail for England!”

  **2\. Age 10**

 Teddy is lying on the couch, idly reading Aunt Ginny's latest quidditch article in the _Prophet._ He turns over on his side, sighing slightly, when a large barn owl flies through the window and drops a letter in his lap. He glances at it, then sits up suddenly. "NAN!" he yells down the hall. "NAN! COME HERE QUICK! IT CAME!"

 The parchment is cool to the touch, a solid weight in his hands. He runs his fingers over it, marveling in the rich texture and the gentle depressions of the handwritten words.  The envelope is sealed with a large H stamped into red wax, and on the front it is addressed specially just to him:

  _Edward Remus Lupin-Tonks-Black-Granger-Delacour-Jones-Weasley-Potter_  
 _The Yellow Room_  
 _Tonks’ Cottage_  
 _Stalwart-upon-Nadder, Wiltshire_

 “Cool,” Teddy breathes, and opens his inheritance.

  **3\. Age 12**

Remus Lupin strides down the corridor, flanked on both sides by Sirius Black and James Potter. His hair is slicked back and his face in unmarked, and they pass a group of first-year girls all giggling and whispering excitedly to each other.

 “Someone’s got a fanclub,” Black sings softly, elbowing Lupin slightly.

 Lupin shrugs. “Nah,” he says humbly, “it’s just that I tutor them in Defense Against the Dark Arts sometimes, when Professor Snicklebutt asks. That’s all.”

 “Oh, come off it, you’re the best looking guy in school! Any girl’d say yes if you asked her out.” Potter pauses. “Except Lily Evans. Or Sirius's cousins. ‘Cause that would be gross.”

 “Gross,” Lupin agreed, throwing an arm around each boy's shoulders. “But why would I want to go out with any stupid old girl when I’ve got you lot?”

 They stumble into the Great Hall and to the Gryffindor table, laughing and talking about what tonight’s adventure will be. Will they sneak into Hogsmeade and try to order firewhiskey at The Three Broomsticks? Will they turn Filch’s office purple? Will they send the Slytherin Quidditch captain a Howler in his mum’s voice? “I think,” Lupin says, loading mashed potatoes onto his plate, “we need a name. A proper name for us, to cement our legend as tricksters and adventurers for generations to come.”

 “Oh!” Potter shouts, mouth full of potatoes, “The Pirates!”

 "Pirates are for children,” Black scoffs. “The Outlaws?”

 “The Musketeers!”

 “The Raiders!”

 “The Marauders,” Lupin says. “How does that sound?”

 “The Marauders,” Potter repeats, his tone reverent. “I love it.”

 Black nods. “Brilliant.”

 “Alright, then.” Lupin grins and holds up his goblet of pumpkin juice. “To The Three Marauders!”

 “The Three Marauders!”

  **4\. Age 16**

 Teddy builds himself a house by the shore. It's small, this house, but that's perfect, because no one else can fit in it but him **.** The walls are white and it has a kitchen and a twin bed and a tiny table next to the window, where he can write fantastical poems or recipes for new potions or nothing at all.

 Sometimes he'll scream, hurl bloody curses at the night ocean for making him the way he is. Or he'II run and run barefoot in thesand until his legs give out and he collapses on the beach, falls asleep there with his body half in the waves with his father's hateful moon high above him. And when he wakes, it's sunny and beautiful and all the evidence of his indiscretion has been washed away, and he can walk slowly back to his house and sit by the kitchen window and write.

 In this house, there's no Nan who needs to see him okay to know she's not a fuck-up of a surrogate parent. There's no Uncle Harry who is so witty and so cool and hangs out with Teddy because of a promise he made to Teddy's dead dad. There's no Hugo who's six and breaks everything but is perfectly secure in his tiny little world, who doesn't have to worry about being smart or funny or loveable because his last name is Weasley and he doesn't need to prove that he belongs. He doesn't have to worry about any of that here.

 There's just Teddy, and the beach, and this house.

  **5\. Age 18**

 “Pass the butter, would you, Teddy?” his mum asks without looking up from the paper. Teddy hands her the dish, content in their breakfast ritual. Everyone is buried deep in their reading. His parents share pages of the _Daily Prophet_ back and forth, while Teddy enjoys whatever weird lunacies the _Quibbler_ has cooked up. Mum’s hair is pink today, and Teddy’s is green, and Da’s has gone gray a long time ago. There’s a light tapping at the window, and Teddy looks up to see a Tawny owl waiting at attention outside the glass.

 Teddy knows what it’s going to be, and his leg starts shaking without his control. His dad squeezes his shoulder. “I’ll get it, T,” he says softly and goes to the window. He comes back and hands Teddy the letter.

 Teddy just holds it for a while, staring at the wax seal. “Oh, come on,” his mum says, knocking her foot against his shin. “It’s not going to change the more you stare at it.”

 His father glares at her, but Teddy laughs and finally opens it. _Dear Mr. Lupin_ , it begins, but he scans until he reaches the list of scores. “I did it,” he says softly. He looks up at his parents. “I did it,” he repeats more strongly. “Four O’s and two E’s. I did it!”

 His mum shrieks and lunges out of her chair to hug him, laughing. His dad reaches over and rescues the parchment from where it’s fallen into Teddy’s toast. “Will you look at that,” he says, the smile on his face softening his scars. “Outstanding in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Just like your mother.”

 “Oh, shut it.” She shakes her head, but she's smiling. “Just like your father, more like.”

 “Yeah,” Teddy says, a warmth spreading in his chest. “Just like.”


End file.
